For Nate
Nathan Coppick was born on July 28, 1988 to Richard and Julie Coppick.
He was raised in Carlisle, Pennsylvania prior to moving to Denver, North Carolina in middle school. He had a little sister named Sarah.
From the time he moved to North Carolina, he ran around with Tate Patterson. Nate and Tate were very different in some ways, but were inseparable. Neither would have thought twice about helping the other.
He was a good student who loved watersports and the outdoors. He was the kind of worker bosses dream of, jumping in to do things because they needed to be done, not because he was ordered to do them. He was a jack of all trades, who could draw and paint, perfectly fix dents in his car, bake a birthday cake, fly fish, run, play lacrosse or anything else he set his mind to.
Nate was tireless, always busy doing something he loved. There was very little he truly disliked and no one who truly disliked him.
In high school, at North Lincoln, he fell in love with his dream girl, Kristen DePalmo. He truly doubted she would ever give him a chance, but he said that simply touching her shoulder felt perfect, that he could see himself spending the rest of his life with her. He was so excited when they went on their first date, loved holding close the girl he knew belonged in his heart.
By the time he was a senior in high school, he didn't have a curfew. He said his parents always knew he would be at school the next day, go to work afterward and safely meet the challenges between. He would go to parties and slowly sip the same Green Apple Smirnoff the whole night without ever putting a damper on the fun. He took care of friends who got sick, drove people who needed a ride and made every place he went just a little brighter.
Although he knew the place he wanted to stay, in Kristen's arms, he was an adventurer. He loved to go fishing, camping, kayaking, wake-boarding, squirrel hunting or anything else he had the chance to do outside. He wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail and climb Mount Everest. Many would have said, "That boy is going places," and they were right.
He was beside himself with joy when he began working at Westport Marina in Denver, North Carolina. He loved getting the chance to meet people and talk to them all day. He loved that he could make good money while enjoying himself so much. He loved being outside in the sun with the boats.
While he could have done anything, literally, he chose to return there from his college studies at North Carolina State University each summer. As a dock manager, he enjoyed knowing his superiors placed faith in him. He enjoyed having a little freedom, too.
Many know first hand, and others can imagine, the way he talked about being hired out for a charter boat on June 10, 2008. It's easy to see his wide smile and hear him joking about how easy it would be to make the extra money for school, and his planned outdoor trips.
He helped to man an 80 foot charter houseboat for a graduation party that Tuesday. The boat traveled out into Lake Norman and safely back to the marina. The recent graduates disembarked from its decks and headed into their afternoons. The father of one graduate was on board, possibly paying the owner of the boat, appreciating the good time his child had on the cruise. Two other crew members were tidying up and finishing the day. Nate decided to help by refueling the boat.
Many can imagine his long legs and tan forearms climbing down the ladder to check on the progress of the fueling. Perhaps he heard a strange noise in the engine room. Perhaps he was simply being diligent.
Somehow, his timing was exactly such that he was right at the epicenter of the explosion that followed. Two loud booms shook the cove of Westport Marina that afternoon. Hot flames licked at the blue sky as 150 gallons of marine fuel poured into the lake. The four others onboard the boat dove into the water and reached safety. Nate was nowhere to be found.
First responders in the area gathered at the marina to quell the flames and search for him. They used sonar and combed the banks. Once they felt it was safe, divers entered the water to search its depths. For 24 hours, there was no sign of the vibrant 19-year old who never met a stranger.
Although nothing was official, many knew the moment they heard of the explosion that he was gone. It is certain his family, including Tate and Kristen, were, and are, devastated beyond description. Some found peace when his body was located. After the boat sunk, a crane had to be brought to the site to lift it back out of the water. As it came to the surface, Nate was found at the stern of the boat. He was right there all along.
As his friends imagine his antics and sweet gestures, they alternate between laughter and uncontrollable weeping. They imagine his smile, the way he lit up every life he touched.
Some will remember how he could mysteriously fit an unbelievable quantity of food into his tall narrow frame. Others will know of his prowess at athletics or outdoors activities. Still others will just remember a simple act of kindness.
I remember so many things about the boy who came to be like a little brother to me. I recall the very first time he came to my apartment in Huntersville, North Carolina, how he went directly to the fridge to find food, settled right in as if it were his own home. For the spring and summer of 2006, he was someone I could count on to help me care for my pets and keep my sanity. We would sit up late into the night and head to Harris Teeter at 3 a.m. for donuts and chocolate milk. He would talk to me about the girls who liked him when he only really wanted Kristen. He stood as my man of honor at my wedding, kept track of my chapstick and powder and helped me with my train. He was a wonderful little brother, the kind who takes just as good of care of his big sister as she does of him, the kind I thought I didn't have to worry about.
I can hear him answering the phone in my head, the way he always joyously answered simply Liiiiizzzz! I can still remember the delicious cake he baked me for my 23rd birthday and see in my head his paintings of trout. I can remember trying to slide by him in the kitchen at Outback and being stabbed by his bony hips and telling him to eat something already, when he had already eaten everything in my fridge.
I know this had to happen for a reason, that him being taken has to lead to something wonderful. Otherwise, it just makes no sense for this wonderful boy who would someday have been a tremendous man to be taken from all of those who loved him, and so many truly did.
I wish I could go to his wedding to Kristen, be crazy Aunt Liz to their kids, who I know would have been awesome. I wish I could go out boating with him or walk with him through the woods. I wish I could know that he would go on being a shining star out in the world. Instead, I have to trust that the spark he left in each one of us he touched will live on in our hearts. I have to know that he will form a bond between us all, even those of us who have never met one another, that will strengthen us and make all our lives better. I have to see his smiling face only when I close my eyes.
He was raised in Carlisle, Pennsylvania prior to moving to Denver, North Carolina in middle school. He had a little sister named Sarah.
From the time he moved to North Carolina, he ran around with Tate Patterson. Nate and Tate were very different in some ways, but were inseparable. Neither would have thought twice about helping the other.
He was a good student who loved watersports and the outdoors. He was the kind of worker bosses dream of, jumping in to do things because they needed to be done, not because he was ordered to do them. He was a jack of all trades, who could draw and paint, perfectly fix dents in his car, bake a birthday cake, fly fish, run, play lacrosse or anything else he set his mind to.
Nate was tireless, always busy doing something he loved. There was very little he truly disliked and no one who truly disliked him.
In high school, at North Lincoln, he fell in love with his dream girl, Kristen DePalmo. He truly doubted she would ever give him a chance, but he said that simply touching her shoulder felt perfect, that he could see himself spending the rest of his life with her. He was so excited when they went on their first date, loved holding close the girl he knew belonged in his heart.
By the time he was a senior in high school, he didn't have a curfew. He said his parents always knew he would be at school the next day, go to work afterward and safely meet the challenges between. He would go to parties and slowly sip the same Green Apple Smirnoff the whole night without ever putting a damper on the fun. He took care of friends who got sick, drove people who needed a ride and made every place he went just a little brighter.
Although he knew the place he wanted to stay, in Kristen's arms, he was an adventurer. He loved to go fishing, camping, kayaking, wake-boarding, squirrel hunting or anything else he had the chance to do outside. He wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail and climb Mount Everest. Many would have said, "That boy is going places," and they were right.
He was beside himself with joy when he began working at Westport Marina in Denver, North Carolina. He loved getting the chance to meet people and talk to them all day. He loved that he could make good money while enjoying himself so much. He loved being outside in the sun with the boats.
While he could have done anything, literally, he chose to return there from his college studies at North Carolina State University each summer. As a dock manager, he enjoyed knowing his superiors placed faith in him. He enjoyed having a little freedom, too.
Many know first hand, and others can imagine, the way he talked about being hired out for a charter boat on June 10, 2008. It's easy to see his wide smile and hear him joking about how easy it would be to make the extra money for school, and his planned outdoor trips.
He helped to man an 80 foot charter houseboat for a graduation party that Tuesday. The boat traveled out into Lake Norman and safely back to the marina. The recent graduates disembarked from its decks and headed into their afternoons. The father of one graduate was on board, possibly paying the owner of the boat, appreciating the good time his child had on the cruise. Two other crew members were tidying up and finishing the day. Nate decided to help by refueling the boat.
Many can imagine his long legs and tan forearms climbing down the ladder to check on the progress of the fueling. Perhaps he heard a strange noise in the engine room. Perhaps he was simply being diligent.
Somehow, his timing was exactly such that he was right at the epicenter of the explosion that followed. Two loud booms shook the cove of Westport Marina that afternoon. Hot flames licked at the blue sky as 150 gallons of marine fuel poured into the lake. The four others onboard the boat dove into the water and reached safety. Nate was nowhere to be found.
First responders in the area gathered at the marina to quell the flames and search for him. They used sonar and combed the banks. Once they felt it was safe, divers entered the water to search its depths. For 24 hours, there was no sign of the vibrant 19-year old who never met a stranger.
Although nothing was official, many knew the moment they heard of the explosion that he was gone. It is certain his family, including Tate and Kristen, were, and are, devastated beyond description. Some found peace when his body was located. After the boat sunk, a crane had to be brought to the site to lift it back out of the water. As it came to the surface, Nate was found at the stern of the boat. He was right there all along.
As his friends imagine his antics and sweet gestures, they alternate between laughter and uncontrollable weeping. They imagine his smile, the way he lit up every life he touched.
Some will remember how he could mysteriously fit an unbelievable quantity of food into his tall narrow frame. Others will know of his prowess at athletics or outdoors activities. Still others will just remember a simple act of kindness.
I remember so many things about the boy who came to be like a little brother to me. I recall the very first time he came to my apartment in Huntersville, North Carolina, how he went directly to the fridge to find food, settled right in as if it were his own home. For the spring and summer of 2006, he was someone I could count on to help me care for my pets and keep my sanity. We would sit up late into the night and head to Harris Teeter at 3 a.m. for donuts and chocolate milk. He would talk to me about the girls who liked him when he only really wanted Kristen. He stood as my man of honor at my wedding, kept track of my chapstick and powder and helped me with my train. He was a wonderful little brother, the kind who takes just as good of care of his big sister as she does of him, the kind I thought I didn't have to worry about.
I can hear him answering the phone in my head, the way he always joyously answered simply Liiiiizzzz! I can still remember the delicious cake he baked me for my 23rd birthday and see in my head his paintings of trout. I can remember trying to slide by him in the kitchen at Outback and being stabbed by his bony hips and telling him to eat something already, when he had already eaten everything in my fridge.
I know this had to happen for a reason, that him being taken has to lead to something wonderful. Otherwise, it just makes no sense for this wonderful boy who would someday have been a tremendous man to be taken from all of those who loved him, and so many truly did.
I wish I could go to his wedding to Kristen, be crazy Aunt Liz to their kids, who I know would have been awesome. I wish I could go out boating with him or walk with him through the woods. I wish I could know that he would go on being a shining star out in the world. Instead, I have to trust that the spark he left in each one of us he touched will live on in our hearts. I have to know that he will form a bond between us all, even those of us who have never met one another, that will strengthen us and make all our lives better. I have to see his smiling face only when I close my eyes.